


Love Lies Bleeding

by eriicaceae



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood and Injury, Drama, Drinking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Language of Flowers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Secrets, Shinigami, Terminal Illnesses, Thorns of Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriicaceae/pseuds/eriicaceae
Summary: Love-Lies-Bleeding:hopeless, but not helpless.Alan Humphries is sick, and he will be for the rest of his life. That much is simple.What isn’t so simple is hiding that fact from Eric- on top of the stresses of his new everyday life, and adjusting to that, it’s only a matter of time until he finds out, be it on Alan’s terms, or another way entirely.





	1. A Simple Memo

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins my newest multi-chapter fanfic. Enjoy!

Alan is sitting at his desk, staring at the letter he’s holding, and trying desperately not to cry.

The letter’s contents were not news to him by any means- he’s known for a while now, in fact- but seeing it written out and explained in a notice he was to hand over to his superior shortly makes it feel so much more _real_ to him. Before, his philosophy was that long as he could do his job without problem, he could ignore it. But now, with William being in the know about Alan’s condition, that would be impossible. 

There’s no doubt Alan’s workload would be reduced- in terms of collections, at least. William was strict, but he was not cruel (unless, of course, your name happened to be Grell Sutcliff. In which case, he was both). And _god forbid_ he eventually be assigned support to accompany him to his assignments- the thought alone is enough to make Alan consider just reaping himself where he’s sitting.

But then there’s a knock at the door, and Eric’s voice is asking if it’s alright to come in, and Alan has to recompose himself while he tucks the memo under some paperwork that’s piled on his desk. He’ll find out eventually- it’s inevitable- but as long as he doesn’t find out _now_ , Alan is okay with that. 

Alan takes a deep breath, and prays his voice won’t give away how miserable he’s feeling, “Come in!”

The door opens, and Eric Slingby enters, and Alan can already feel his cool, calm, and collected facade start to crumble. He’s just the kind of person you feel like you could confide all your deepest fears to, and you can tell he cares _so much_. If Alan wasn’t so set on getting through the workday without crying, he probably would have caved the second he heard the door click shut behind his partner.

His partner, who had been complaining about several women from General Affairs who had been flirting with him for a while now, and who Alan did not particularly care for, but had cut himself off once he’d gotten a good look at Alan. There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Eric speaks, “Are you alright, Al? You look a bit tired.” He’s frowning now, “Did you not get enough sleep last night?”

“I slept fine,” Alan replies, relieved that Eric had mistaken his emotional turmoil for simple fatigue (which, admittedly, he had been experiencing quite a bit recently), “which you should know, since you were with me the entire night.”

Eric looks at him, a bit skeptical, but shrugs it off after a second, “Can't argue with that.” He moves to lean on Alan’s desk, “Is everything else alright, though?”

“Everything is _fine_ , Eric.” Alan insists, “You just want to find something to worry about. Now either continue your story or get back to work, I have paperwork to complete.” As if to punctuate his sentence, he picks up his pen and begins to write.

Eric sighs and straightens up, “I’ll go find Ronnie, then. I swear, you’ll work yourself to death at this rate.”

Alan tenses, Eric’s comment bothering him more than it should, “That’s impossible, Eric. We can’t die from something as trivial as being overworked.” He forces himself to let out a small laugh, “And even if that _were_ the case, I don't overwork myself.”

Eric throws his hands up in mock surrender, “Whatever you say.” He turns to leave, but pauses to look back once he reaches the door, “Still, you should come out with me, Grell, and Ronnie sometime- get out of the house for a bit.”

Alan tries his best to give a convincing smile, “I’ll think about it. Now go, I have to finish this.” He gestures to the paperwork strewn about on his desk, though he has no intention of actually working on any of it.

Eric smiles back, a genuine, warm smile that’s almost enough to make everything okay. Almost. He gives a wink as he walks out the door, calling behind him, “It’ll happen one of these nights!”

Alan chuckles softly to himself, but quickly sobers up, standing to close the door that Eric had left wide open. Turning around, he can see where he’s hid the much-despised memo under his paperwork from where he’s standing, and doesn’t lose focus on it as he walks back to his desk.

He pulls it back out from under the small stack of papers, and reads it over for what feels like the hundredth time this morning. He considers just tossing it out, not telling William at all, and instead pretending that he’s still as healthy as he was two months ago. It’s a tempting concept, but what would happen later on, if Alan were to be assigned a collections-heavy list and be unable to complete it? If he were to encounter a demon and try to fight it (as any sensible reaper should), only to have an attack and lose both the soul and his life in the process? That wouldn't do, not at all.

He just has to swallow his pride and notify William, as the memo instructs.

But for now, he has collections to attend to.

[/////]

It’s nearing the end of the day shift, and Alan makes a point to get back as late as he can from his last reap. He’ll have overtime for sure, having cut the time he had to complete his paperwork by more than half. But that would work to his advantage- Eric would end up at either a pub or their house after the shift’s end (Alan, of course, is putting faith in the hope that Eric won't have overtime of his own), Grell and Ronald will no doubt clock out as soon as they can, and god only knows when, or if, William ever leaves the Dispatch building.

All things considered, Alan has a very good window of opportunity to catch William alone, hand him the memo, and then have a much-needed crying session in the office bathroom if time allows.

He knocks on the door to William’s office and enters when he hears a muffled invitation to come in from the other side, ready to hand in the collections list he’d been assigned that day and regretfully inform him of his poor time management, resulting in overtime on his end, only to find himself stunned into silence when William speaks before he even has the opportunity to open his mouth.

“Ah, Alan Humphries,” He says as he looks up from the typewriter on his desk, “There’s actually a rather important topic I’ve been needing to talk with you about. Though I’m sure you’re already aware of this and have something for me as well, yes?”

Of course, he’d been notified ahead of time. It made sense, and was perfectly reasonable- a way for the infirmary to ensure stubborn employees such as Alan didn’t try to do exactly what he’d considered doing that morning and go on pretending they’re in perfect health, as every other reaper is. 

Alan begins to fidget with the small notebook in his hands, “Right, yes. I understand, sir.” He silently hands William the aforementioned notebook, and hesitates before speaking again, “Though I was wondering: I have quite a bit of unfinished paperwork due to personal error; would it be possible for me to complete that and bring it to you before we discuss anything? If that’s not too much to ask, of course.”

William takes a moment to flip through the death list, checking to make sure each page had been marked with a ‘Completed’ stamp. He closes it, seemingly satisfied, and is quiet for a moment. So quiet, that Alan is afraid he might just ignore his request completely and go right into his most likely pre-prepared spiel about how he’s sorry to hear the news, that Alan’s eventual departure from the Dispatch will be a sad day for every employee and his service will be dearly missed, and Alan is so caught up in this fabricated scenario that he nearly misses William’s resigned sigh.

“I guess it can’t be helped…” He says, more to himself than Alan, “Alright, get the paperwork completed as soon as you can and hand it in- save the both of us some time- then we can talk about your, uh, _condition_.”

Alan tries not to let the last part of that sentence bother him, and relaxes his shoulders, “Thank you, sir.” William only nods before focusing his attention back on his typewriter, and Alan takes that as his cue to leave.

He’s at the door, about to step over the threshold, when William calls after him, “And, Humphries?” Alan pauses, silently letting him know to continue, “I’m sorry to hear about this, I truly am.”

Alan doesn't reply, he just lets the door shut behind him and continues back to his office.

[/////]

The walk from William’s office to Alan’s own office is a rather short one, and Alan is thankful for that. He doesn’t want to risk being stopped by one of his coworkers and forced to pretend to be interested in whatever hypothetical conversation they’re having- but then again, who does?

By the time he walks into his office and takes a seat at his desk, he’s pleasantly surprised he hasn’t run into Eric yet. He doesn't know when the other man’s last collection is, or if he has paperwork to finish before he can clock out, but he knows it won't be long before Eric comes to get him, intending on heading home and Alan has to explain that he’s got overtime tonight so he’ll be late getting home and it’s best to just go on ahead and… and he’s going off on a mental tangent again.

He shakes his head, as if doing so will somehow shake away the countless distracting thoughts going through his mind, and picks up his pen. He doesn't want to stay any later than he has to, and he has no intention of making William wait for him either.

He picks up a form from his desk, making a conscious effort to not look at that dreaded memo, because he knows he won't be able to pay attention to the task at hand if he does, and begins to fill it out.

As the minutes pass, Alan works quickly but efficiently, and he finds himself having to keep himself from finishing his paperwork on time. It’s excruciatingly boring, and he begins to wonder if Eric is even going to show up. 

Of course, just after he begins to wonder, Eric knocks on his office door. This time, not waiting for a reply before he lets himself in and begins talking. “You ready to head out yet? I've already clocked out, along with basically everyone else.”

“I figured you had. And no, not yet; I've got some paperwork to finish.” Alan replies, not looking up from his desk.

“Overtime?” Eric asks, though the answer is obvious, and Alan merely hums in reply, “That's unlike you, are you sure you're doing okay, Al?”

“Are _you_ making it difficult for me to concentrate?” Alan replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Alright, point taken.” Eric says, sighing, “But do you _have_ to stay here? What am I supposed to do at home all alone until you get back?”

“I’m sure you'll find something to do.” Alan says, “It isn't as if there's any shortage of books in our house.”

“C’mon, Al,” Eric pleads, “just bring it home and work on it in the office there. That's what it’s for, isn't it?”

Alan rolls his eyes, “And just have you distract me all night long? As tempting as that sounds, no.” He says, pointing an accusing finger at Eric, “I know your tricks, Slingby.”

“You're not gonna budge on this, are you?”

“No, I'm not.” Alan sighs, finally looking up from his paperwork, “Besides, I have something to talk to William about after I finish.” It slips out so casually that he barely realizes what he’s said, and he has to hide the dawning horror on his face as Eric immediately becomes interested.

“Oh? What about?” Eric asks, intrigued, “Did something happen on one of your reaps? Was it a demon?”

Alan quickly tries to come up with a lie, “No, no, nothing like that.” Technically not a lie, so he’s off to a good start, “It’s not anything interesting; boring stuff. You wouldn't want to hear about it.” He does his best to sound convincing, but _god, was he terrible at lying_.

Eric looks at him, and Alan is afraid he’s seen through his lie for a moment, but he doesn't call him out. What he asks instead is, if possible, worse than that, “Might as well be bored here with you than bored alone at home,” He says, shrugging, “What kind of boring stuff?”

Now Alan has to lie again, and make it believable _again_ , “Just… slight scheduling changes, is all. Like I said, nothing exciting.”

“You're right, that is pretty boring.” Eric says, and Alan manages a small laugh, “Anyway, I guess I’ll leave you to it now. Maybe see if Ronnie wants to go to the pub.”

“Finally,” Alan says in mock exasperation, “I was starting to think you'd never leave.” He stands up from his desk to give Eric a quick kiss, “Don't stay out too late, I’d like you to be there when I get home.”

“Of course, darling. I’ll see you in a little while.” Eric replies, kissing him back, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Alan pulls away and sits back down as Eric leaves, and deflates once Eric is out of sight. He rests his head on his desk and takes a few deep breaths. He knows, deep down, that he can't keep Eric in the dark forever, and it would be better to tell him sooner than later, but he just can't bring himself to. Hell, he hadn't even been able to tell William, who only knew because the infirmary had told him directly.

Whatever, that would just have to be an issue for his future self to work out. Right now, in the present, he just has to focus on completing his paperwork and meeting with William.

[/////]

Alan looks up at the clock as he places the last form in the ‘completed’ pile, ready to be handed in to William. It’s later than he expected it to be, only a couple minutes before the reapers unfortunately stuck with the night shift would begin trickling into the building, ready to start their work.

He sighs and stands up, grabbing the stack of papers along with the memo. Almost desperately, he tries to think of anything else he can do to keep stalling, but there's nothing. His work is perfect (as usual), and his office is as neat and well-organized as it always is. 

It can't be avoided any longer. Oh well, better to get it over with now rather than agonize over it for longer than necessary, he figures. 

The walk to William’s office is, again, a rather short one, but the atmosphere is much more unnerving now that the office is empty and quiet- two things that it rarely ever is during the day. Alan can feel his heart begin to beat faster with anxiety, and he wonders how much longer it will continue to beat at all.

He pushes that (rather morbid) thought from his mind as he comes to a stop in front of William’s office, and gives himself a quick pep talk in his mind before entering. He can do this, it won't be so bad; just a quick conversation with his boss about his impending death, is all.

He’s not very good at pep talks. Those had always been more Eric’s thing.

It seems to work well enough, however, as next thing he knows he’s knocking on the door, and William’s voice is commanding him to enter.

Alan takes a deep breath, and opens the door, shutting it behind him just as William begins to speak, “Take a seat.”

Alan complies, and hands the stack of papers to William. He notices his hands shaking slightly, and tries to will them to stop lest the other man notice.

William takes the forms with a curt “thank you” and sets them aside, turning his attention to the memo from the infirmary. He scans it over before grabbing what Alan can only assume is his file and placing it inside.

He places the file back in the drawer it presumably came from, and Alan begins to fidget with his bolo tie as the silence draws on. 

Thankfully, the silence is broken only moments later, “While this is a rather unfortunate development, there’s not much that can be done other than making things a bit easier for you.” William pauses to sign a form, “I’ll see to it that your workload is reduced, and your collections be spread out to allow you multiple breaks throughout the day.” He says.

“With all due respect, sir,” Alan protests, “I am still perfectly capable of handling the workload I have now.”

William glances up, looking at him from over the frames of his glasses, “I believe ‘stubborn’ would be a better choice of words.”

Alan opens his mouth to retort, but then thinks better of it and stops himself, instead taking a deep breath before speaking, “As of right now, my health does not get in the way of my work. I see no reason to lessen the amount of collections I am assigned.”

“Think of it as a transition period, then.” William says, “Rather than all at once, your assignments will be reduced gradually, over a period of a few months.”

“Understood, sir.” Alan sighs, knowing there’s no way he’ll be able to change William’s mind on the matter. _Although_ , “But, we’re already understaffed as it is, who will take on the extra collections?”

“Sutcliff is no stranger to working overtime. Plus, I assume Slingby has already been made aware of this as well?” William asks, “I’m sure he would have no problem picking up your slack.”

Alan tenses and tightens his grip on his tie, “I don't see why he would have been.”

William looks up at that, eyeing Alan for a moment, “...Right, well,” He adjusts his glasses and begins to shuffle papers around, “I don't make a habit out of meddling in my employees’ personal affairs, but as this has a direct effect on your work- and by extension, his- I am not left with much other choice. He will find out sooner or later, whether it be from me or yourself is up to you.”

“...Understood, sir.” Alan says, standing up, “Now if you’ll excuse me, Eric is waiting for his _perfectly healthy_ partner to return home.”

“How much longer do you plan to keep this up, Humphries?”

The question takes him by surprise, making him stop in the middle of opening the office door. He recovers quickly, the initial shock fading away, “As long as I can make it last.” He says, “Goodnight, sir.”

And as he leaves the office, he swears he hears William quietly say, “Goodnight, Alan.” just before the door swings shut behind him.


	2. Rough Day

Alan shuts the door to his and Eric’s house, sighing. He’s glad to be home, because at home he gets to be healthy. As long as Eric is kept in the dark, home is the only place where nobody knows he’s sick, and nobody treats him as such.

But on the other hand, as long as Eric is unaware, Alan constantly has to walk on eggshells around him, always worrying that he might find out. It’s tiring, but worth it if it means he gets to pretend for at least a little while longer.

He toes off his shoes and walks into the living room. Immediately, his focus turns to Eric, who’s sat on the couch reading a book. Alan is a bit surprised; usually he’d be in bed at this time. He must have been waiting for him, then. The thought makes Alan smile, and he walks over to the couch, softly greeting his partner a he does so.

“Took you long enough.” Eric says as Alan sits down next to him.

Alan chuckles and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, “Sorry, love. There ended up being a bit more work than I’d thought.”

“I’m only teasing.” Eric says, returning the kiss, “So, what exactly did you and Spears talk about?”

Alan had mentally prepared himself for this conversation on his way home, but that didn't make it any less anxiety-inducing, “Like I said earlier,” He begins, “just some scheduling changes. I’m being assigned less collections from now on.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth, either.

Eric looks at him quizzically, “That’s odd. Did he say why?”

“He didn't.” Again, not a lie- Alan had been the one to tell _him_ the reason, “I’m hoping he has some other assignment for me.” He sighs, leaning into Eric.

Eric wraps an arm around Alan, “I’m sure it’s something like that.” He says, kissing Alan’s head, “I saved some dinner for you, by the way. It should still be warm.”

If Alan is being honest, the day’s events had left him both exhausted and without much of an appetite. “Thank you, Eric. I appreciate it, but I’m more tired than hungry right now.” He feels bad passing up on Eric’s cooking, especially when he’d gone through the trouble of saving some, but there isn’t much he can really do about it, “I think I’m just going to head to bed right now.” He can see Eric open his mouth to protest, so he quickly adds, “I’ll make up for it tomorrow, promise.”

Eric sighs resignedly, “Alright, then, goodnight.” He turns as Alan stands up, catching his wrist and pulling him down for a kiss. After a few seconds, he pulls away, “I’ll be in soon. I love you.”

Alan smiles, the first genuine one that day, “I love you too.” He leaves it at that, turning and heading towards their shared bedroom.

Once there, he wastes no time in getting undressed and changing into sleepwear. He’s glad to finally be able to set aside his tie and hang up his suit. The Dispatch employee uniforms, while he appreciates their professionalism, are not something he necessarily finds comfortable.

Alan is especially glad, though, to be able to crawl into bed and lay down, burying himself in the plush blanket. He deserves this, he’s decided. After such a long and emotionally tiring day, he deserves nothing more than to get comfortable and drift off into a peaceful sleep as Eric lays beside him.

Speaking of Eric, Alan can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen now, and can't help but start to wonder how much longer they’ll be able to maintain this closeness. As of right now, it’s fairly easy for him to keep the Thorns a secret, but it’ll only get harder the longer he tries to keep up this act. The clock is ticking, and he’s steadily running out of time.

He decides to push the thought aside for now and instead try to sleep. He removes his glasses, setting them down on his bedside table, before turning off the lamp. 

Not too long after, Eric joins him, and they fall asleep next to each other.

[/////]

The next morning, after Alan and Eric have already gone their separate ways, Alan walks into his office, leaning against the door after he closes it behind him. As much as he loves Eric and loves being with Eric, keeping up this charade is starting to get very tiring very fast.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to keep himself from having a complete breakdown in the middle of his office. That would be a rather awful start to the day for anyone, Alan reckons. 

He runs a hand through his hair, beginning to pace around the room. _It’s alright, he can do this_. Though whatever ‘this’ is exactly referring to, Alan isn't sure. Dealing with the Thorns on his own? Sure, he could do that; it wasn't as if dealing with an illness by himself was a new concept to him, though the first time around hadn't necessarily ended that well. Keeping his condition a secret from Eric, along with everyone else he knows? He hasn't managed to mess that up so far, but there's no telling how much longer he’ll be able to keep that streak. 

Yes, he can do this. But for how long?

He lets out a sigh and relaxes the tension in his shoulders in an attempt to calm himself down. This is, to put it lightly, a major inconvenience. Of course, he’s only making things more difficult for himself by not telling Eric, but he would rather die before admit that- and he might.

Finally managing to get over his self-pity session (or, at least, setting it to the side to be revisited later), Alan walks over to his desk, picking up his death list for the day and flipping through it. 

...Wait. That can't be right, can it? 

He checks again, then once more. No, there's definitely a significant amount of pages missing. He flicks through the list another time. Just as he thought- his assignments are spaced out, with an uncomfortable amount of downtime in between each collection. So much for gradually reducing his workload. 

He hates this, he’s decided. Work gives him something to do, something to focus on; it’s a distraction, an escape from the harsh reality he’s facing, and now that’s being taken from him. It’s frustrating, more than anything else, and he isn't sure whether he wants to hit something or just cry. 

Snapping the list shut and setting it down, Alan settles on burying his face in his hands and groaning. He doesn't have the time to be getting unreasonably upset over this. Later, however, there will be more than enough time to let out his frustrations. He just has to get through the day, and then he can sit around and feel sorry for himself as much as he wants to.

First, though, he has to actually _start_ his workday. Which, after looking at the time of the first collection on his list and then glancing at the clock, he realizes is going to be a lot more difficult than he anticipated.

Roughly an hour. He had to somehow find something to do to kill roughly an hour before he could go on his first collection of the day. Immediately, his first thought is to work on paperwork, but he’d already completed all of his assignments the night before, and wouldn't have any others until after his first collection. 

Turns out he doesn't have to worry about this for as long as he originally thought he did, as there’s a knock at his office door after fifteen or so minutes. He’s already standing, having been pacing around since he’d realized there was nothing to work on, so he decides to open the door instead of calling for whoever is on the other side to come in.

Alan opens the door, and is met with William standing there, as cold and detached as ever, with a file folder tucked under his arm. “Oh,” Alan says, having expected Eric, “Good morning, sir. What brings you here?” He asks, silently hoping that whatever is in the folder is more work.

“As I am sure you know, Sutcliff is... _unavailable_ , at the moment, so I’ve decided to put you in charge of overseeing Knox’s collections in her stead.” William says, holding the file out for Alan to take.

That would explain all the long gaps in between collections, then. Alan opens the folder and flips through the pages. It’s a copy of Ronald’s death list, and it’s silly, but Alan can't help but feel slightly jealous of how many collections the younger reaper has been assigned. 

He closes the folder and looks back up at William, “Thank you, sir. I’ll see to it that he completes all of his assignments quickly and efficiently.” 

“Indeed.” William says, “I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

Alan nods, and William makes his exit. Sighing, Alan closes his office door and looks through Ronald’s list once more. 

He knows that this is only to make him feel like he’s doing something, since all it really entails is that he be present during Ronald’s collections, but as long as he can at least _pretend_ he’s being productive, he’ll take what he can get.

[/////]

Alan arrives at the collection site before Ronald, not having wanted to stay in the dispatch building any longer than he absolutely had to. It’s not much better, being a dirty alleyway, but it’s quiet, and Alan decides to use his few extra minutes to think.

He and Ronald had never been super close friends, only hanging out when either Eric or Grell is also present, so this will be their first time spending time together without a buffer. His impression of the boy so far is that he’s nice and rather fun to be around, having one of those personalities that just brightens the mood, but the office break room and the favored pub of most dispatch employees have much different atmospheres than being on-duty. Not to mention that Grell, of all people, is his mentor; after all, she’s not exactly known for her exemplary work ethic. All things considered, Alan isn't really sure what to expect.

He’s pleasantly surprised, however, when Ronald shows up a few minutes later, eager to get to work.

“Hey, Mister Alan, sorry I'm a bit late, I just couldn't get this one girl from General Affairs to leave me alone.” Ronald says as he stops in front of Alan, swinging his scythe up to rest on his shoulders. He notices Alan’s raised eyebrows and decides to comment, “What, surprised I actually care about my job?”

“No, nothing like that.” Alan says, waving off the accusation with his hand, “I’m just surprised you're on time, is all. You’re always the last one to hand in assignments.”

“It’s the desk work I have trouble completing.” Ronald points out, “I handle fieldwork just fine.”

Alan hums, “I guess that’s true, you do usually end up with the least overtime out of all of us.” He looks at his copy of Ronald’s list and checks his watch, “Speaking of which, you're due here in a few minutes, might as well get prepared now if you want to avoid overtime.”

Ronald nods, and watches as two men come running down the alleyway, neither noticing him or Alan. The first man realizes he’s cornered and turns around, brandishing a knife. The other man, however, pulls out a gun, and it’s obvious which is going to come out of this alive.

The second man shoots, then shoots again, and the first man falls. The second running over to the other and kicking the knife away from him as he wrestles the man’s wallet off of his person. Not wanting to stick around the scene of the crime, the attacker runs off, leaving the man he shot to die.

Ronald takes that as his cue, and walks over to the dying man, starting up his scythe. The man’s cinematic record begins playing, and both reapers watch with little interest as his life is laid out before them. It’s rather unremarkable, and Alan thinks he probably didn't have much ahead of him based on what he’s seen of his life before this. Theft, other petty crime, getting involved in bad circles- not exactly the makings of someone who will contribute great things to the world.

Ronald decides the same thing, as he stores the cinematic record in his scythe and stamps the man’s page in his death list ‘complete’, then writing ‘nothing of note’ in the ‘additional notes’ section. 

The rest of the collections go about as smoothly as the first, Ronald getting a few breaks when Alan had collections of his own to attend to. Though, as it got closer to their lunch break, Ronald got less enthusiastic about their job.

“Can you believe they expect me to collect all these souls by myself?” Ronald complains after checking to see how many assignments he has left for the day, “You could at least help me, you know. Miss Grell does, at least.”

“I was simply told to monitor you, there's no need for me to step in unless we come across a demon, which we haven't.” Alan says, though he can't help but feel guilty knowing that some of those collections were meant for him, “Plus, do you really expect me to follow Sutcliff’s example? She’s not exactly a great role model.”

Ronald sighs, “I guess not… it was worth a shot, though.”

“Hey, think on the bright side: you only have this last assignment and then we can both go on break.” Alan points out in an attempt to keep the younger reaper’s spirits up.

It seems to work, as Ronald visibly perks up, “You're right! Best get this over with, then.” He says, before walking over to the assignment’s body and turning on his scythe, watching closely as the records come spilling out.

He reviews the cinematic record carefully, ultimately deciding the person in question is unworthy of a second chance, and writing as such in the ‘additional notes’ section of his list.

With the last collection completed, Ronald excitedly turns to Alan, “Alright! Let’s hurry back to Dispatch, I’m starving!” He exclaims, and Alan chuckles quietly to himself at his eagerness.

“Go on ahead, you’ve earned it.” He says, and Ronald doesn't hesitate in taking his leave of the mortal realm, Alan following after him.

[/////]

Alan is thankful to finally have time to himself. Ronald is good company, but it’s honestly exhausting being around anyone at the moment. He’s constantly on edge, making sure not to expose the fact that he’s very seriously ill. Dealing with that, on top of everything else, makes it understandable that he would need a good few minutes just to himself.

A few good minutes that are over almost as soon as they begin, because not long after he grabs his bagged lunch from the break room, heads back to his office, and takes a seat at his desk, his door opens and Eric is pulling up a chair to sit with Alan.

It’s routine for them by now, and Alan would have been surprised if Eric hadn't come in, but that doesn't make him despise the thought of human interaction any less. But, because he loves Eric, and because he wants to keep some semblance of normalcy, he doesn't ask the other man to leave.

“How much longer are you on break?” He asks instead, pulling out his sandwich from the brown paper lunch bag. 

“Not very long,” Eric replies, folding his arms on Alan’s desk and resting his chin on them, “I was almost sure I was gonna miss you, actually. And I probably would’ve if I hadn't seen you on my way to the break room.”

Alan hums i acknowledgement, “Busy day?” He asks.

Eric groans, “I’m absolutely slammed. Honestly, I feel like I’m being punished for something. You?”

Alan frowns at hearing that, knowing he’s the reason Eric’s got so much extra work, “Fairly slow, actually. Spears is having me fill in for Grell while she’s on probation, so I’m stuck monitoring Ronald most of the time.”

“Mentoring, huh?” Eric asks, raising an eyebrow, “It feels like not too long ago I was mentoring you.” He remarks. 

“Hardly.” Alan scoffs, taking a bite from his sandwich. After swallowing, he continues, “It’s more like babysitting, really. Plus, he’s close to being promoted- it’s not like I have much to teach him at this point.”

“Hm, you have a point.” Eric says, glancing at the clock, “Shit. My break’s just about over.” He stands up hurriedly, leaning over the desk to press a kiss to Alan’s cheek, “I’m going out with a few people after work tonight, so I’ll see you at home, alright?”

“Alright,” Alan replies, returning the kiss, “Have a good rest of your day, and don't drink too much.”

“No promises.” Eric says teasingly as he leaves the office, leaving Alan alone once more. 

He sighs, placing his half-eaten sandwich back in the paper bag before folding over the top and dropping it in the wastebasket. He looks at the clock- not much longer left on his break, either. He best get to work, then. 

Sliding over a small stack of papers so they’re in front of him, Alan picks up a pen and begins filling out what little paperwork he has. It’s boring work, especially so since he’d obviously been given the easier collections, but he works as diligently as he always does. 

He finishes the paperwork with time to spare, but decides he might as well head out now. It’s better than being stuck in his office with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, and he’ll be able to take a walk to hopefully clear his head if he leaves now. 

He stands up, placing the pen back in it’s cup before placing the completed paperwork in the ‘completed’ basket. Deciding everything is as it should be, he gives himself a quick nod of approval and heads for the door.

As he’s leaving his office, Alan spots Ronald heading towards the elevators, and quickens his pace to catch up with him. “Ronald,” He calls when he’s still some distance away, catching the younger reaper’s attention.

Ronald turns and, upon spotting Alan, walks over to meet him halfway, “Hey, Mister Alan, what’s up?”

“I have two more collections before your break ends, and I’d rather not come all the way back here just to leave again a few minutes later,” Alan explains, “so I’d like for you to meet me in the mortal realm after I’ve completed my assignments.”

Ronald nods, “Sure thing!” He agrees, “Just give me the time and location and I’ll be there.” 

“Alright, just a second.” Alan says, pulling out his list and flipping to a blank page. He pulls out his pen, hurriedly copying the information of his last reap onto the paper before tearing the page out and handing it to Ronald, “There you go.”

Ronald thanks him and turns back towards the elevators, calling over his shoulder, “See ya!”

Alan merely waves in response, dropping his hand once the other reaper turns around. With that out of the way, he heads out to his collections.

[/////]

With only one more collection to go before he has to continue monitoring Ronald, and then only a handful of assignments to oversee before he can return to Dispatch and clock out- on time, unlike the night before- Alan is feeling pretty optimistic about the last half of the day.

Arriving at the location of the target’s death- a cozy home belonging to an elderly widow- with a few minutes to spare, he decides to lean against the wall and go over Ronald’s assignment list yet again, for a lack of anything better to do. He has five more collections within the next couple hours, and Alan finds himself starting to feel jealous again.

It’s silly, he knows, and most other reapers would be overjoyed to have their work reduced by more than half (though the thought only makes Alan feel worse- the others are already overworked due to being understaffed and now they have to pick up his slack along with everything else), but he rather liked having a multitude of assignments to keep himself busy throughout the day. Having something to keep him from dwelling on the fact that he’s dying was well appreciated, and tagging along with Ronald helped, but only so much.

Alan is so wrapped up in his thoughts that, when he checks his watch, he realizes his target died three minutes ago. In his defense, it was easy to miss death- the elderly woman had laid down to take a nap and never got back up, having passed away peacefully in her sleep, no commotion, no warning signs.

Swearing under his breath, he pockets the list and gently kicks off the wall, only to stop mid-stride when he realizes he’d missed more than just her death.

There, next to her bed, is a demon that decided to test its luck and take advantage of Alan being distracted to steal the soul while he wasn't looking. Luckily for Alan, he’d caught it just before it had been able to do as it planned.

Lunging forward, Alan manages to catch the demon off guard and is able to get a decent hit in, only to block the demon’s counter-attack moments later. Its recovery time is rather impressive, and it seems almost unfazed by the various slashes Alan is inflicting upon its body, but Alan doesn't give it any chances to counter, skillfully dodging and blocking its attacks.

They seem to be equally matched, and the demon begins to show signs of withdrawing, deciding the soul isn't worth the effort, until Alan tenses, dropping both his scythe and his guard as he collapses, crying out. 

The demon kicks him in the ribs- no doubt leaving them bruised at least, cracked at worst- and takes advantage of Alan’s agony to steal the soul. Alan can't do anything but watch as the demon takes the woman’s head in its hands and brings its mouth to hers, devouring the soul and damaging Alan’s pride in one fluid motion. After which, it makes haste in vacating the scene, jumping out of the open window and leaving Alan to suffer in solitude.

Solitude that only lasts for a minute or two before Alan hears the bedroom door open, and hurried footsteps making their way towards where he lay on the floor, clutching his chest. Then, he finds himself being helped into a sitting position, and is met with Ronald’s worried expression.

“Alan? Are you alright? What happened?” He sounds about as panicked as he looks, and Alan feels bad for making him worry so much.

“I'm fine,” He manages out through coughing, and he knows it’s an obvious lie, “Damned demon got the soul, though.”

“A demon did this?” Ronald asks, checking Alan over, “I don't see any scratches…” He says, frowning slightly.

Alan takes a few deep breaths, finally feeling the pain in his chest lessen, “It got a good kick in,” He explains, “Though I doubt it did any serious damage. I should be alright to continue in a minute.”

“Sir,” Ronald begins, tentative, “Shouldn't you have recovered by now, then?”

Alan wants to deny it, wants to try to hold on to his secret for at least a short while longer, but before he can say anything he’s hit with another wave of pain and doubles over again, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

Ronald, still kneeling next to him, and at a loss for what he should do, simply places a hand on Alan’s back in an attempt at comfort. To Alan, it feels almost pitying, but he doesn't have much say in the matter.

Fortunately, this attack is milder, over within a matter of seconds rather than minutes, and Alan goes limp, Ronald catching him and laying him down gently, “Alan…” Ronald says, in disbelief, “you have the Thorns?”

“What gave it away?” Alan replies sarcastically, struggling to catch his breath.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence then, before Ronald breaks it, “I’m sorry.” Is all he says, and Alan doesn't feel the need to reply, leaving them in silence once more.

Finally managing to find the energy to stand, Alan gets up and picks up his dropped scythe, leaning it against the wall before taking out his own death list and opening it to the last page.

“We’ll be a bit late for your next collection,” Alan says as he starts writing what happened in the ‘additional notes’ section, “but if everything goes smoothly, which I’m sure it will, we should be back on track by the collection after that.”

Ronald hesitates before speaking, “Are you sure you're alright to continue? I mean, you just had an attack and all, and it seemed pretty bad… you should go back to Dispatch.”

“And leave you without supervision? I doubt Spears would appreciate that.” Alan states, his eyes not leaving his list.

“It’d only be for a few collections!” Ronald protests, “And I’m sure he’d understand, it’s not like you don't have a good reason.”

“It’s not up for debate.” Alan says firmly, “If I say I'm fine, I'm fine.”

Ronald looks down, kicking the floorboards slightly, “If you say so.” He mumbles.

“And, Ronald,” Alan says once he’s finished writing, “Not a _word_ about this to Eric, understood?”

“Eric? Why not?” Ronald asks, confused, “I mean, surely he would want to know if you’ve had an attack.”

“He doesn't know yet, and he won't for as long as I can help it.” Alan replies.

Ronald, taken aback, blurts out, “What? Why haven't you told him?!” 

“Because he’ll treat me the same way you already are.” Alan snaps, “I don't want him to have to constantly worry, to treat me like I'm some porcelain doll that could break at any moment.” He continues, “If I can at least be healthy in Eric’s eyes, I can continue pretending everything is just fine.”

Ronald takes a second to consider it, “Alright,” He says, “I won't tell him, but only if you agree to go back to Dispatch.”

“Are you _blackmailing_ me?” Alan asks, incredulous. Ronald just shrugs nonchalantly. Alan sighs, exasperated, “Fine, then. If it means you'll keep your mouth shut, I’ll go back to Dispatch.”

Ronald grins smugly, obviously pleased with himself, “That's what I like to hear! I’ll make sure to take great care with the rest of my collections, so don't worry about a thing.”

“As if I was worried about that in the first place.” Alan says, “You may be a pain in the ass, but you're good at your job, I’ll give you that much.”

“Thanks,” Ronald smiles, then frowns in thought, “I think… Anyway, get going already! I don't wanna be later for my next assignment than I already am.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going already.” Alan sighs, grabbing his scythe, “See you tomorrow, Knox.”

And with that, he heads back to Dispatch, already dreading the conversation he’s going to have with William.

[/////]

Things at the office seem to be winding down now, with it being towards the end of the workday. Only a handful of reapers are out on collections now, and the rest are hurrying to finish their paperwork so they can clock out on time.

Alan should be working on his paperwork as well if he wants to leave when his shift actually ends, but, unfortunately, he has to go inform William of the incident with the demon, which will undoubtedly land him with an additional stack of forms to fill out.

He almost wants to forgo the meeting altogether, avoid wounding his pride any more than it already has been, but he knows if he doesn't then he’ll have to deal with administration, and they aren't the sort of people anyone wants to have to deal with. So, realistically, he’s just going to have to suck it up and admit that his declining health is beginning to interfere with his work.

Coming to a stop in front of his superior’s office, he takes a moment to steel himself before knocking on the door. He waits for the invitation in, and, upon receiving it, hesitates a moment before opening the door and entering the office. 

“Humphries.” William states, not taking his eyes off his work, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, sir,” Alan hesitates, not sure where to begin. Might as well get straight to the point, “I was on my last collection when a demon appeared, attempting to steal the soul. I acted on my duty and tried to fight it off, but due to suffering an attack I was unable to save the soul.” He says all at once, handing his death list to William. 

William takes the list, flipping to the last page and reading the notes Alan had written after the incident, “And here you were just saying this wouldn't get in the way of your work.” William mutters, sighing. “Very well then,” He says, louder now, “as you have already provided sufficient information as to what happened, I will fill out the required paperwork. You are dismissed.” He finishes with a wave of his hand.

Alan, however, refuses to leave, “But, sir,” He protests, “ _I'm_ the one who made a mistake, _I'm_ the one who let a demon get away with a soul. I can't possibly expect you to do my work for me.”

“And _I_ cannot expect you to risk overworking yourself so soon after an attack.” William counters, “We are understaffed as it is, it would be an inconvenience for you to be put out of commission.”

“Not like I’m much help anyway, with the amount of work I’m doing.” Alan mutters under his breath, earning him a glare from William. 

“You are dismissed, Humphries.” He repeats, firmer this time, and Alan isn’t left with much choice but to comply.

He leaves the office, and walks back to his own to get ready to clock out. He gets straight to work on what little paperwork he has left, and he’s so frustrated it takes him much longer than it should to complete it. Upon finishing, he places it in the basket with the rest of his paperwork and, not wanting to see William again, decides they can wait to be turned in until the next day. 

With nothing left to do, and his shift ending in just a few minutes, he clocks out and heads home, the thought of going straight to sleep seeming very appealing.

[/////]

When he gets home, the first thing Alan does is change out of his suit. It feels almost suffocating, and he’s wanted nothing more than to be rid of it since his attack earlier. He doesn’t bother turning on the light, deciding what little natural light left is enough, and quickly puts on his pajamas.

He had planned to go straight to sleep and move on from this awful day, but as he’s pulling on his shirt, he spots something rather worrying out of the corner of his eye and his plans go right out the window.

He pushes up his sleeves, hoping it was just a trick of the light, a smudge on his glasses, or just his imagination, but it’s none of those things. There, on his wrists, are the faint beginnings of black lines following his veins, almost resembling thorns.

Suddenly, he’s not as confident in his ability to handle this on his own.

Alan sits on the edge of the bed, and takes off his glasses to rub at his eyes. He’d been dealing with his illness fine for this long, but now a few lines were enough to make him start crying. Despite his best efforts to hold them in, he can feel the onslaught of tears coming, and he can't help but feel that he’s overreacting. He knew these scars were bound to appear eventually, he’d been anticipating their arrival since he first realized he had the Thorns, he just hadn't expected them to appear so _soon_.

After another look at his wrists, he decides that no, he’s not overreacting. He’s completely justified in this- it’s a lot for anyone to handle, Alan reasons with himself. If it were anyone other than him in this situation, he doubts they would take it any better. Still, he feels a bit silly sitting alone in the dark, crying over something that's entirely his fault. 

If only he wasn’t such a compassionate person, if only he could have done his job like he was supposed to- without emotional attachment- he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation. But, of course, things hadn't gone that way. He’d messed up terribly, and now his life is spiraling out of control all over again. 

He laughs through his tears, full of bitterness. It’s somehow _worse_ the second time around. He’d thought it would have been easier; he’s been through this already, after all. What he didn't take into account, however, is that now he has so much that he doesn't want to lose. This entire life he’s built for himself- his happiness, his friends, and, most of all, Eric. 

God, he doesn’t even want to _think_ about parting with Eric. He means the world to Alan, and Alan means the world to him. Alan keeps telling himself he’s hiding this from Eric to save himself from having to accept he’s sick, but in reality, it’s to save Eric from the heartbreak of knowing his partner is going to die. And not only will he simply die, but his last moments will be complete agony; in pain, coughing and gasping for air he no longer needs, until his heart finally stops. 

He doesn’t want Eric to be witness to that. He doesn’t want _anyone_ to, but especially not Eric. 

He’s so absorbed in his own misery that he doesn't notice Eric returning home, realizing only when the light in their room flicks on. 

He quickly rubs at his eyes and sniffles, unable to bring himself to look at Eric, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were home.” His voice isn’t steady in the slightest, but it doesn’t matter- it’s already obvious he’s been crying.

Eric is quick to sit down next to him, pulling him into a hug and rubbing slow circles on his back, “It’s alright, sweetheart.” He speaks softly, and it does wonders in calming Alan down, “Care to tell me what’s bothering you?” 

Alan knows he should, that it would make everything so much easier to deal with if he wasn’t dealing with it alone and, on top of that, the opportunity is presenting itself. But, he just can’t bring himself to. Not yet, at least. Instead, he just shakes his head and says, “I don’t know.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Alan can’t seem to speak any louder than that. 

Eric sighs, knowing he’s not going to get an answer if Alan doesn’t want him to, but he tries again anyway, “Rough day?”

Alan sniffles, “Something like that.” 

Eric knows that was as close to an actual answer as he’s gonna get, so he pulls away from the hug and cups Alan’s face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away the last of his tears, “It’s late.” He says, “We should go to sleep, yeah? It’ll do us both some good.”

Alan nods, managing a weak smile, “You’re right. And who knows, maybe tomorrow will be better.” He doubts it, but acts optimistic for Eric’s sake.

Eric smiles back and places a kiss on his forehead, “See? That’s a good way of thinking about it.” He pulls away, completely this time, and stands up, “Now, you get comfortable while I get ready for bed, okay? I won’t be long.”

Alan nods again as Eric grabs a nightshirt and heads into the bathroom. He tries to focus on the sound of the medicine cabinet opening and shutting, then the sink running, then being shut off a minute later. Anything to take his attention away from the marks on his wrists. 

He gets under the covers, careful to keep his wrists covered, and closes his eyes, taking few deep breaths. He needs to get his thoughts under control, the last thing he needs right now is to be like this around Eric. He might as well be holding a sign that reads ‘something is seriously wrong’ if he keeps this up. As long as Eric thinks this is a one-off thing stemming from a couple upsetting collections, everything will be fine.

Alan is vaguely aware of the light being turned off, and Eric getting into bed next to him, then gently running his fingers through Alan’s hair. It’s a calming sensation, and he’s thankful for it as it lulls him to sleep. It only does so much, and he’s still acutely aware of the fact that he’s slowly dying, but he feels relaxed at least.

Things will be alright, he thinks as he drifts off into sleep. Maybe not for long- and they're definitely not _good_ \- but just for now, they’re alright.


	3. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!! ive had awful writers block recently but i should be back on track now!

Alan’s day starts with Eric gently shaking him awake. He’d never been one to have much trouble rising, and was normally the first one awake, so it’s a rather unexpected awakening. Guess there's a first time for everything, as they say.

He groans as he sits up and rubs at his eyes- they're wet.

“Hey, “ Eric says softly, “You were crying in your sleep, do you wanna talk about it?” He moves to sit next to Alan, rubbing his back soothingly.

Right. He’d been having a bad dream, one where Eric had found out about Alan hiding his illness from him, and had gotten angry. They’d had an argument, and it ended in Eric walking out on Alan. He can feel tears building up again, and Alan has to remind himself that it was just a dream. A completely plausible one, but a dream nonetheless.

He turns, looking up at Eric’s blurry face- he has to squint in order to make out the details; he looks worried. Alan gives him a small smile, “I’m fine, Eric. I don't even remember what I was dreaming about.”

Eric smiles back and takes Alan’s hands in his. Alan tenses, worried Eric had somehow noticed the marks on his wrists, but relaxes when Eric only brings them to his mouth and kisses each one in turn.

Alan takes his hands back and leans forward, pressing his face into Eric’s chest. Eric wraps his arms around him, and Alan sighs. He needs this, needs Eric’s comfort, but there’s a distance between them that keeps it from feeling genuine. 

And yet, it’s over way too soon. 

“You should start getting ready,” Eric says, pulling away, and Alan realizes he’s already dressed for work, “I let you sleep in, so we’ll have to hurry a bit if we wanna be on time.”

Alan nods, and grabs his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on, “How long until we need to leave?”

Eric checks the alarm clock on the bedside table, humming, “Twenty minutes, give or take.”

“Twenty.” Alan repeats, frowning slightly, “You should’ve woken me sooner, Eric.”

“You needed the rest.” He states, very matter-of-factly, “I’ll make breakfast while you get dressed, we’ll get to Dispatch with time to spare.”

Eric kisses the top of Alan’s head before he leaves, and the first thing Alan realizes once he moves to stand up is just how much he _aches_. His chest is _so_ sore, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the demon or the attack, or a combination of the two. He gently puts pressure on the area and winces- bruised, most likely. The attack probably hadn't helped.

He should have healed by now.

Bruising is the least of a reaper’s worries when it comes to injuries, and the more severe injuries that are to be expected in this line of work don't pose much of a threat either. But, of course, this only rings true for everyone who isn't Alan.

He almost wants to just lay back down, suddenly dreading the thought of going into work. And he knows that, realistically, he should stay home- rest, put all of his energy into recovering. But, also realistically, he can’t do that without a very good excuse. And as long as Eric remains unaware, Alan isn't going to be able to come up with one.

He might have been able to just say he’s feeling a bit under the weather, but that would only cause Eric to fuss over him, which is exactly what Alan is trying to avoid. Other than that, there's not many other viable options, so Alan decides he’s just going to grit his teeth and get through the day.

Not a very smart decision, considering the infirmary doctor had told him, when he was first diagnosed, to avoid any stress as much as possible. But Alan had taken that information, and promptly chosen to ignore it. 

Really, he’s pretty sure he’s been more stressed lately than he’s ever been in his life- and he’s had a long life.

All things considered, it’s not the worst decision he could make. He could decide to volunteer to train the new recruits, could decide to take on a lengthy and physically-demanding case, could decide to have himself placed on one of the teams focused on hunting down demons. 

Lots of things he could decide to do, but won't. Because, contrary to what others (namely William) might believe, Alan doesn't have a death wish. He may be incredibly stubborn when it comes to keeping up appearances, and quick to refuse help from anyone who may offer it, but he doesn't want to die. Not so soon.

While he’s going over this in his head, he’s also getting dressed for work, the prospect of staying home having been nothing but wishful thinking. 

When he changes his shirt, he’s very aware of Eric being just down the hall. The marks are faint still, and very easy to miss if you aren't looking for them, but he’s still afraid Eric will walk in at any moment and the entire lie will be exposed. Alan just settles on keeping his back to the door and moving quickly.

He realizes, then, that short sleeves are out of the question for the time being. So is most intimacy between himself and Eric. Both things that will, without a doubt, alert Eric to the fact that something is wrong- something more than just a bad collection.

Alan pushes the thought from his mind as he finishes getting dressed. His internal monologue has been rather depressing lately, and he can't say he's a fan of it. Better to just ignore it than give it any more thought, in his opinion.

And ignore it he does, tightening his tie and heading into the kitchen where Eric is leaning against the counter, eating a piece of toast. There are two other slices set out on a plate next to him, and Alan can only assume they're meant for him.

Eric doesn't say anything as Alan settles in next to him, too preoccupied with finishing his breakfast to make any small talk. Alan’s thankful for that as he starts on his own toast. It’s simple, but good, and Alan’s not quite sure he could stomach anything more.

Eric finishes before Alan does, but still makes no attempt at small talk. Partly for lack of conversation topic but mostly for the fact that Alan would rather be caught dead before being caught coming into work late.

Alan finishes not soon after but, not wanting to get stuck with overtime if he can help it, is already heading out the door after he finishes his plate and dumps it in the sink, “Come on, we've got ten minutes before we’re on the receiving end of whatever punishment Will feels like giving out today.” He calls behind him.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” Eric calls back, rushing to catch up with Alan as he walks out the door.

[/////]

They arrive with two minutes to spare, and exchange a chaste kiss before going their separate ways.

Alan gets to his office and picks up his list for the day, sighing in frustration when he sees he has the same amount of collections as he had the day before, though he’s not sure what he expected. Honestly, after yesterday, he’s lucky William didn't cut his workload again.

Still, it’s frustrating. He knows it’s because William doesn't want to risk losing a reaper when they're already so understaffed, but that doesn't stop him from feeling like he’s being coddled.

Maybe, if Eric knew, they would be able to work something out- have Eric accompany him on assignments, step in only if things got out of Alan’s area of ability (a rare occurrence), so he would be able to vouch for him to William so he might get his old workload back. Of course, that won't be an option for a while, considering Alan is too stubborn to admit to his partner that he's seriously ill.

For the love of _god_ , Humphries. _Focus_.

Alan pockets his own list and turns his attention to the other list on his desk- a copy of Ronald’s, no doubt. He picks it up and flips through it, noting that the first collection is an hour after his own. He’d have plenty of time to prepare himself for Ronald’s energy, then. 

At least there’s that.

There we go, just focus on the positives. If he can manage to just focus on positive things for today at least, maybe the day will pass faster than if he just focused on all of the negatives- which is a lot.

Maybe today won't be as bad as he’s making it out to be.

[/////]

Alan’s first collection is simple, and goes by without any issue, much like most other assignments he’s been given. The paperwork was easier, and he completed the form in what was possibly record time. Both things he was fine with, but he now had much too much free time, which he wasn't as fine with.

He settles on pacing in his office until there's a knock on his door.

“Come in.” He calls, and isn't surprised when the door opens to reveal Ronald, “Oh, Ronald, good morning. Are you ready to start your collections?”

“Yep!” He says, nodding enthusiastically. Alan isn't sure how he can be so chipper this early in the morning.

“Alright then, let's get going.” He says, grabbing his scythe, “We’ve got a pretty tight schedule today, so it’d be best not to waste any time.”

“Wasn't planning on it.” Ronald replies, holding the office door open for Alan before closing it behind them.

“I would hope not.” Alan says, and they come to a bit of an awkward silence once they reach the lifts.

Ronald keeps glancing at Alan, and he’s sure he thinks he’s being discreet, but he’s got a look on his face that gives Alan the impression that he thinks he might drop dead at any second.

He can't say he appreciates it, but it’s better than having to actually address the elephant in the room, so he doesn't bring it up.

The elevator doors open to the ground floor, and they weave through the various reapers gathered there in order to exit the Dispatch. Once outside, Alan uses his scythe to open a portal to the mortal world, and gestures for Ronald to go ahead of him.

He does, and Alan follows behind him, the portal closing shortly after.

The alley they portaled into is fairly close to the assignment, and they only have to walk a block to reach their destination. During the short walk, Ronald insists on whistling, and it gets on Alan’s nerves very fast.

“Knox, I’d like to have at least a little peace while on the field, please.” He says, the words coming out a bit harsher than he intended.

Ronald stops, looking guilty, “Sorry, didn't even realize I was doing it.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m sorry.” Alan sighs, “I just had a rough night, it’s not fair of me to take that out on you.”

Ronald’s expression instantly shifts to concern, “You alright?”

“Just fine, Ronald. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't.” Alan says, “Now focus, we’re here.”

Ronald spares one last look at Alan, making sure he’s really alright, before turning his attention to the task at hand.

Alan watches the collection, already dreading the inevitable monotony of having to watch Ronald do his job perfectly over and over again. Though, he figures, it’s better than sitting around doing nothing. At least this way he feels as if he’s contributing somehow.

Ronald finishes and looks back at Alan, who gives him a thumbs up, “Good job. Now, on to the next one.”

“Already? I don't even get a little break?” Ronald groans.

“Like I said, we have a tight schedule. No time for breaks.” Alan says, walking away from the collection that just took place.

With lack of anything else to do, Ronald follows suit and they continue on with their day.

The rest of the collections go by smoothly, though to Alan they start to pass by in a blur after the first few. Ronald’s work is more than just good, almost on par with his own, and nothing of note happens. Alan can't help but wish something interesting would happen, if only to break him out of this near-agonizing routine.

But at the same time, he desperately hopes nothing will happen, because even though the most physical activity he’s done so far has been travelling from one collection to the next, Alan’s chest is aching in a very unpleasant way and he’s feeling a bit breathless. 

Thankfully, they’ve just finished the last assignment before their lunch breaks, and what Ronald doesn't know, he can't worry about, so Alan decides to keep it to himself. He’s never been one to complain much, anyway.

Oh well, he thinks as he creates the portal back to the reaper realm for them, not much can be done about it. At least he’ll be able to rest for a while before they have to head out again.

[/////]

Immediately after arriving back at dispatch, Alan makes a beeline for his office and sits down at his desk, thoroughly exhausted even though he’s barely done anything besides stand to the side while Ronald collects souls, and quite honestly considering the idea of having a quick nap. He has a fairly busy afternoon ahead of him, though (‘busy’ in the sense of having to watch Ronald), so he forgoes the temptation of a nap, sets his list aside, and decides to work on what little paperwork he has.

Of course, he doesn't seem to have much control over what happens in his life anymore, and he soon finds himself struggling to stay awake. He does the best he can to keep his eyes open and his mind aware, but he’s fighting a losing battle.

Next thing he knows, he’s being shaken awake by Eric, for the second time that day. He hopes this doesn't become a regular occurance. 

“Hey, Al.” He speaks softly, “Do you need any help with that paperwork? Doesn't seem like you're getting much work done.”

“No, no.” Alan mumbles, still groggy, “I’m fine, I just…” His sentence is broken by a yawn, “just dozed off for a second, is all.”

“Alan, darling, you've completed maybe three forms so far. When did your break start?” Eric asks.

Alan glances at the clock, squinting in order to read the numbers, “About an hour ago.” He answers.

“And when does it end?”

Alan takes a moment to respond, “...In fifteen minutes.”

“And you're sure you don't need any help?”

“Mhm.” He responds, but his eyes are slipping shut again, and he’s resting his head on his arms.

“You're falling asleep again.” Eric states, “Did you sleep well enough?”

“Yeah,” Alan mumbles, “Ronnie just has so much energy, it’s hard to keep up.”

Eric chuckles, “That he does.” He pauses, thinking for a second, “Here’s an idea: How about Ron and I take on the rest of your collections and you work on your paperwork as much as you can? I’m sure Will won't mind if it’s a bit late.”

Alan hums a bit in response, too tired to argue, “Sure, just don't do a sloppy job.”

Eric smiles, leaning down to kiss the top of Alan’s head, “I’ll make sure it’s up to your standards, promise.” He straightens up, grabbing Alan’s list and heading out the door, “Get some rest, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[/////]

It’s much later now, and Eric, having finally finished his (slightly heavier) workload for the day, makes his way through Dispatch and towards Alan’s office to see if he’s ready to clock out yet. He knocks, because he figures Alan should be awake by now, but there's no answer. He shrugs and lets himself in, and is met with Alan asleep at his desk, finished paperwork in a small pile next to him. There are still some forms from later in the afternoon that haven't been done yet, but he’s sure William won't mind a few missing reports until tomorrow.

He walks over to his sleeping partner and gently shakes him awake. Alan opens his eyes groggily and sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he registers where he is and who’s with him.

“Oh, Eric.” He says, sleepiness prevalent in his voice, “What time is it?” He looks at the clock, beginning to panic when he realizes the time, “Oh no, I missed all my afternoon collections, the souls- and Ronald- I left Ronald on his own.” He rambles, burying his face in his hands. “Oh god, William is gonna have my head for this.”

“Al.” Eric says, placing a hand on Alan’s shoulder, “Calm down, love. Ronald and I took care of it, remember? You don't have anything to worry about. As far as Spears is concerned, your work is perfect as always.”

Alan relaxes then, remembering that they had, in fact, agreed on that arrangement, “Right, I forgot. Must not be fully awake yet. Thank you.” He says, leaning up to kiss Eric on the cheek.

“You're welcome.” Eric replies, returning the kiss, “Come on, then. I’ll turn in our work to Spears while you clock out.”

“Alright.” Alan says, handing his paperwork to Eric as he stands up, “Thanks again, love. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“No problem. Now go, the sooner we can leave, the better.” Eric says.

“I couldn't agree more.” Alan responds, taking a moment to straighten up his desk before leaving the office to clock out.

Eric stands there for a second, making sure all the forms were in order and filled in properly. They were, of course, nothing less than perfect, typical of Alan.

After making sure he has everything, Eric leaves Alan’s office and heads over to William’s. He knocks on the door and waits for the invitation to enter before opening it and entering the office.

“Eric Slingby.” William addresses him, prompting him to speak.

“Spears.” Eric says, “I have both mine and Alan’s lists and completed paperwork here.” He continues, handing the items to William.

William quickly looks over the lists, making sure every collection is marked complete, then sets them aside, seemingly pleased. He does the same with the paperwork, and determines it’s acceptable. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from Humphries.” William says, “But the work is otherwise up to standard, you are dismissed.”

“Understood, sir. Goodnight.” Eric says, turning to leave.

“To you too.” William responds, already back to being absorbed in his seemingly endless paperwork.

Eric shuts the door behind him, and heads towards the stairs. He just about runs down them, eager to reach the lobby and meet back up with Alan.

Alan spots him soon after he arrives, as the crowd has thinned out considerably, and greets him with a quick kiss, “Ready?”

“Ready.” He says, returning the kiss and grabbing Alan’s hand.

“Let’s get going then, I’m exhausted.” Alan replies, letting Eric lead him out of the door and towards their home.


	4. A Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a short chapter, but ive got a lot planned for the next few chapters, so hopefully that'll make up for it ^^

Nearly a week has passed now since Alan first had his schedule changed, and not much has happened in that time. Since the day he had fallen asleep at the office, being so exhausted that, once he and Eric had returned home, he hadn't even bothered to change into his nightshirt before collapsing onto their bed and falling asleep, the Thorns hadn't had much effect on him. The fatigue was still there, albeit less intense, but he hadn’t had any more attacks.

Of course, there was no telling how long that would last. For all he knows, the Thorns could very well flare up at any time they please, with a complete disregard for what Alan wants. He’s tried his best not to dwell on that too much, though. It’s better to make the most of the good days than spend them worrying about when the next bad one will be, in his opinion.

Despite his health being stable at the moment, he still has to be incredibly careful around Eric. The scars the Thorns have left him with aren't easy to hide, and neither is his frustration. Alan doesn't have anything against Ronald, but he thinks that if he has to watch him collect souls for another week, he might actually lose his mind. For the first time in his life, he finds himself wishing Grell would hurry up and get off of probation already.

Not that he dislikes Grell, because he doesn't, he just dislikes how disruptive she is. He rather enjoys being able to complete his work without overhearing her in the other room telling one of her over-dramatic stories to anyone who’ll listen. And _god forbid_ she find out he’s ill. Knowing her, Alan is sure she’d spread that around the office like wildfire. Or, at least, she’d have no issue with going against Alan’s wishes of not telling Eric.

Alan wills himself to stop dwelling on hypotheticals. After all, it’s nearing the end of the month, which means the end-of-month reports are due soon and he needs to focus on his work.

It’s a slow day, for him and Ronald both, so Alan has decided to use the extra free time to make progress on said reports. It’s still too early for them to be completely accurate, of course, but he figures it’s better to at least get a head start rather than rush to finish them a few days before the due date. He manages to complete about half of the first one before a knock on his office door interrupts him.

Expecting Eric, he rolls his eyes. Really, he’d quite appreciate it if he could be left to work in peace for a change. He sighs, exasperated, before calling, “Come in!”

The door opens and, to Alan's surprise, one of the new recruits walks in. Alan recognizes him, he’s seen him around the office with the other newbies, but he can't remember his name for the life of him. He decides to simply regard him with a quick nod of his head, “Good morning, what brings you here?” He asks.

“Good morning, sir.” The newbie says, and pulls a slip of paper out from his coat pocket, “Mr. Spears asked me to deliver this to you.” He explains, holding it out for Alan to take.

“Oh, thank you.” Alan says, taking the paper from the other reaper, “Is that all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, then,” Alan gestures towards the door, turning back to his work, “you may go now.”

The reaper nods and leaves without a word, closing the door behind him. Alan sighs- Spears is bad enough, but the new recruits that try to follow his example to a tee are even worse. At least with Spears, that’s just how he usually is. The newbies just come across as forced and uncomfortable. Though Alan doesn't have much room to talk since he was exactly the same when he first started here.

Oh well, there are more important things to worry about at the moment. Namely, the slip of paper he was just handed. He unfolds it to find a message written across the front that simply reads: _‘Meeting in my office at 13:25 - William T. Spears’._

Alan reads it once more, then again. A meeting? For what reason? He hasn’t done anything wrong, not that he's aware of. Except, of course, he's sick. That's it, then. He's probably getting taken off of fieldwork completely, only given paperwork from now on. Or- oh god- what if he's being forced to take time off? Either way, Eric will inevitably find out that Alan isn't fit to work anymore, and why. He’ll find out that Alan’s sick. That he made a horrible mistake, that he’s useless, a poor excuse for a reaper-

And then suddenly he’s in so much pain he can't even think. 

He gasps, doubling over to the point where his forehead is touching his desk. He brings one hand up to cover his mouth and muffle any pained noises he makes, the other going to his chest to grip the fabric over his heart. His eyes are squeezed shut in pain, but he’s sure there are tears managing to escape. It’s a ridiculous thought to have in this moment, but he hopes they don't get on any of his paperwork. 

Alan laughs despite the situation, though it comes out sounding more like a choked sob than a laugh, then dissolves into a coughing fit. Once the coughing is over, he’s left gasping, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest from all the stress being put on it.

And then, it’s over as suddenly as it started. The pain fades and Alan is left to catch his breath and recompose himself. It hadn't been more than a minor attack, but Alan still feels like he just lost a fight with a demon. Going to the infirmary to lay down and rest for a while honestly sounds incredibly inviting to him at the moment, and it isn't as if he’s never done that before, but then he looks at all of the forms on his desk and pushes the thought from his mind. 

He leans back in his chair and takes a few deep breaths, then spares a glance at the clock. The meeting with William is in thirty minutes, which doesn't leave him with much time to make good progress, but he’ll take what he can get. He turns his attention back to his typewriter, and sighs, picking back up where he had left off on the report before he’d been interrupted.

[/////]

The half hour passes all too quickly, and Alan can't help the sense of dread that settled itself in his chest as he walks towards William’s office.

It just has to be related to the Thorns somehow, he can't think of anything else it could be about. Unless Ronald is getting promoted? No, it’s still too early for that, he reasons. 

He reaches the door of William’s office, and takes a minute to compose himself. After a few deep breaths, he knocks and waits for permission to enter.

Upon hearing William call him in, Alan enters the office, surprised to see that Ronald is already there. It makes sense, he supposes, considering he’s acting as Ronald’s mentor for the time being and after William declares him unfit for work Ronald will have to be assigned another temporary mentor. 

He pushes the thought from his mind and tries to keep his nerves under control as he shakily takes his seat.

Both Alan and Ronald wait in silence as William signs one last form and straightens the stack of paperwork he’s completed so far. He sets it aside before turning to face the two men sitting in front of him. 

“Ronald Knox, Alan Humphries,” He begins, “I assume you are both wondering why I’ve called you in.”

Ronald and Alan nod in affirmation, and William continues, “Alan Humphries, you will no longer be needing to accompany Ronald Knox on his assignments.”

Alan feels his blood run cold, but somehow manages to keep his composure, “May I ask why that is, sir?”

William, who had just been about to speak, fully turns his attention towards him, “I would appreciate it if you would let me finish before asking questions.” He says, and Alan shrinks back in his chair, “As I was saying, Grell Sutcliff will be returning from probation shortly before the first. This, of course, means Ronald Knox will no longer need you, Humphries, to act as a stand-in mentor.”

Alan finally relaxes at that. He feels silly, almost, for not having even considered this outcome. It’s nothing he’s done, and what’s better is that Grell will be back within the month, so, come August, Alan will be able to have some semblance of his old workload back. 

Ronald finally speaks up, “So, Miss Grell is gonna be back soon?” He asks excitedly. 

“That is what I just said, yes.” William replies. 

Ronald grins and fist pumps, before turning to Alan, “No offense, Mr. Alan.”

“None taken.” He replies, smiling slightly, “I’m as happy as you are.”

William speaks again before Ronald has the chance to reply, “That was all. You two are dismissed, get back to work.”

“Yes, sir.” They both nod and stand up, Ronald leaving before Alan, who is stopped by William.

“Humphries, before you go: I will be meeting with you again in the near future to discuss your schedule. And I highly recommend you speak with Eric Slingby regarding your condition before then.” He says.

Alan pauses in front of the door, “I’ll consider it, sir. Good day.”

As he leaves, he hears William sigh and mutter what he can only assume is an exasperated ‘Honestly…’

The door shuts behind him, and despite the excitement of finally having his own workload again, the only thing he can focus on is how much he doesn’t want to tell Eric yet. 

He doesn't have much choice, though. And it really is something he should come clean about sooner rather than later, better to get it over with for both of them than continue dwelling on and stressing over it. Eric is eventually going to start picking up on the fact that Alan’s acting different anyway, so might as well just answer those questions before he starts asking them.

Once Grell returns, Alan decides then. Once Grell is back and he’s no longer Ronald’s mentor, he’ll sit Eric down at their dining table during a quiet night in together, and finally tell him he’s sick.

It’s a solid plan, now all he has to do is actually see it through.


	5. Stomach Bug

Alan unlocks the door to his and Eric’s home, entirely ready to just go to bed and sleep. His wants will have to wait though, because Eric is still awake and very eager to hear about Alan’s day.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Eric calls from the couch, “Sorry I didn't come visit before I clocked out, how was your day?”

“Don't worry about it.” Alan says, unbuttoning his suit jacket, “And give me a second, I want to change out of my uniform before I get comfortable.”

“Go on, then.” Eric replies, “I won't keep you from getting out of that awful uniform.”

Alan chuckles, and heads into their bedroom to hang up his suit and change into his nightclothes. It’s the middle of summer, but he decides on wearing something with long sleeves. He has to wear something with long sleeves, something that's able to cover the awful scars on his wrists. 

He cuts off that train of thought before it can go any further. Now’s not the time. 

After he’s finished changing, Alan goes back into the living room and sits down on the couch next to Eric, “Alright, I’m comfortable, you're free to ask me about my day now.”

Eric laughs, “Finally, I've been on the edge of my seat in anticipation.” He says, “How was your day? I heard from Ron that you two had a meeting with Spears earlier, but he had to go on collections before he could give any details.”

Alan nods, “We did. Apparently Grell will be off of probation soon, so when that happens I won't have to babysit Ronald anymore. William just wanted to give us a heads up, nothing too exciting.” He explains.

“Good to know that Grell’s gonna be back soon. She’ll be able to take a fair share of all the extra work we’ve been getting.” Eric says.

Alan hums in agreement, though it’s not like it matters much to him, since he’s the cause of the extra work. He just hopes he’ll be able to pick most of his work back up once he’s no longer stuck with Ronald.

Eric’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, “You know, you'd make a pretty good mentor, in my opinion.”

“I can't say I agree.” Alan responds, his tone light. “I much prefer just having to worry about my own workload.” Though, in reality, he simply doesn't set a great example for the younger reapers. He’s much too empathetic, much too careless, much too _sick_. It’d be better for everyone if he didn't have any influence on the new recruits, really.

“I didn't think I’d be much good at first, either.” Eric says, completely oblivious to Alan’s inner monologue, “But then you came along and I turned out to be a pretty great mentor, if I do say so myself.”

“You were an amazing mentor, but you're an even better boyfriend.” Alan says, leaning up to press his lips to Eric’s.

Eric melts into the kiss, running his fingers through Alan’s hair. After a couple moments he pulls away, “What do you say we move this to the bedroom?” He asks, fingers playing with the hem of Alan’s shirt.

Alan sighs, “As nice as that sounds, I really would rather sleep than do anything else tonight.” He says, and it’s true; the attack he'd suffered earlier had exhausted him more than he would like to admit.

“That’s fine. I’m pretty tired myself, if I'm being honest.” Eric says, scooping Alan into his lap and picking him up, “Let’s go, then.”

“Eric!” Alan exclaims, “I'm perfectly capable of walking! Put me down!”

“I don't wanna.” Eric says as he carries Alan to their room, “Besides, it’s not even that far.”

“Which is exactly why it’s so ridiculous that you insist on carrying me!” Alan protests, “Put me _down_!”

“If you insist.” Eric says, dropping Alan onto the bed, the shorter man landing on the mattress with a soft thud.

“You're horrible.” Alan says, his voice muffled by the pillows.

“Sorry, love. You're just so much fun to tease.” Eric says, kissing the top of Alan’s head before turning out the bedroom light, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eric.”

[/////]

The next morning, Alan enters his office and is pleasantly surprised when he looks at his schedule and sees that he’s scheduled for quite a few solo collections before he has to monitor Ronald later in the day.

The first two are early, and the rest are a bit more spread out before his lunch break, which is when he has to start going with Ronald. He might as well head out for the early ones, since they're soon, and then come back to the office to work on the reports for them while he waits to leave for the next collection.

He pockets his list and grabs his scythe, heading out of his office and making his way out of the Dispatch building. Once outside, Alan creates a portal to the mortal realm with his scythe and steps through. 

As he steps out onto the rooftop, Alan has to brace himself with his scythe as he stumbles. He’s so unexpectedly dizzy and lightheaded that he has to sit down for a moment. It’s rather embarrassing, and Alan is eternally thankful that Ronald wasn't around to see.

It’s gone in only a matter of seconds, and Alan stands up again. He moves slowly- cautiously, as if the lightheadedness will suddenly return, but it doesn't, and he shrugs it off as a simple case of dehydration before he heads to the location of his first collection.

It’s a fairly standard collection, not much standing out about it, and Alan is done with it almost as soon as he started. He couldn't help feeling bad for the man whose soul he collected, though. He’d had a rough life, and in the end he’d been alone in his final moments.

But Alan doesn't have time to dwell. His next assignment is across town, and he’ll have to hurry to make it there in time. Of course, it’d be quicker to travel via rooftop, but he prefers to travel on the ground. Especially now- all the jumping exhausts him quickly, he's found.

He sets off on foot towards the next location, and has to will himself not to get distracted as he passes all the shops and stalls in the area.   
There’s so much life everywhere, and even after half a century Alan still finds himself in awe of all the things he never got to experience when he was human. How much longer, he wonders, until he’s so sick and weak that he’s no longer fit to work? Until he's no longer able to experience the human world? He doesn't want to think about that. So he doesn't. He pushes the thought from his mind and continues walking towards his destination. 

He gets there with only a minute left until his target passes away, and he's greeted by the sight of the man, who’s currently fixing the sign on the front of the shop, losing his balance and falling off of the ladder he’d been standing on.

He lands with a sickening crack that makes Alan cringe as blood starts pooling around his head. Alan approaches the body nonetheless, and plunges his scythe into the man’s chest. The cinematic record starts to play and Alan examines it thoroughly before concluding that this man hadn't been anything extraordinary, and wouldn't be granted a second chance at life. 

He stamps the man’s page in his list complete and snaps it shut before pocketing it again. He sighs and, despite the awful scene in front of him, can't help but think that he likes working like this. It almost feels like he isn't sick, like William doesn't consider him a liability. And, better yet, he gets to pretend everything is back to normal until lunch.

Alan leaves the collection site with a smile on his face, eager to get back to Dispatch and complete some of his paperwork before his next Assignment.

[/////]

Ronald takes advantage of his break the same as Alan does, using the free time to work on paperwork. The amount he’s actually getting done, though, is little to none, due to the fact that talking to Eric is infinitely more fun than paperwork.

“Honestly Eric, it’s amazing how you still find the time to come to the pub with us.” Ronald says as he places a paper into his ‘completed’ pile, “What with all this extra work we’ve been getting, and Alan being sick and all.” 

It comes out so casually that Ronald doesn’t realize what he’s said until Eric speaks.

“Alan’s sick?” He asks, confused, “What do you mean?”

Ronald scrambles for a believable lie, trying his best to hide his panic, “Oh, did he not say anything to you? The other day I invited him to have lunch with me but he declined, mentioned something about a stomach bug.” 

“Oh,” Eric is all says, rubbing his chin, “Weird that he wouldn't tell me…” 

“Maybe he just didn't want you to worry?” Ronald supplies, “Plus, if he’s still coming into work it can't be that bad.” That is, if you don't count being terminally ill as ‘that bad’, but Ronald doesn't voice that thought.

“I guess you have a point, but it’s still weird that he didn't tell me.” Eric says, standing up, “I’m gonna go ask him about it before my break ends. See you later, Ronnie.”

Ronald starts to say something to try to convince Eric to stay, but Eric’s out the door before he can get the words out.

He just hopes Alan won't be too upset with him.

[/////]

“I'm busy.” Alan says as Eric walks into his office, “Go bother Ronald, I’m sure he won't mind.”

“See, that's the thing,” Eric kneels down next to Alan’s chair, turning it to face him, “I was just talking to Ron, and he said you're sick.” He takes Alan’s hands in his and squeezes them gently, not wanting him to get the impression he’s mad, “Love, why didn't you say something? I wanna know when you're not feeling well so I can help you feel better.”

“I… what?” Alan asks, “How- Did Ronald-?” He can feel angry tears threatening to spill, and rubs at his eyes from under his glasses, “Dammit, I told him not to tell you. I can't believe I trusted-”

“Alan.” Eric cuts in, putting a hand on Alan’s shoulder, “Sweetheart, I’m not understanding why you're getting so worked up about a stomach bug.”

Alan freezes, caught off guard, “A… stomach bug?”

“Unless it’s not?” Eric asks, visibly confused.

“No, no, it is.” Alan quickly corrects, though he’s sure it’s obvious he’s lying, “It’s just a stomach bug, I don't know why I overreacted like that.” He takes a moment to collect himself, silently praying to whatever god there might be that Eric won't press the matter further.

And, to his immense relief, he doesn’t. In Eric’s mind, the worst Alan has is a minor stomach bug, and hopefully it would stay that way for a while. After all, Eric doesn't have any reason to not believe him.

He does, however, ask, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want you to worry.” Alan replies, “I know how you get, Mister Slingby. You would've had me on bed rest the instant I expressed feeling even slightly unwell.” He punctuates the statement by pointing an accusing finger at Eric.

Eric chuckles, rubbing at his chin, “I guess you have a point. Still, I’d like to know when you aren't feeling well so I can do everything in my power- _within reason_ \- to help get you feeling better again.”

“It’s only minor.” Alan insists, “I’m sure I’ll be better by tomorrow.”

“If you say so.” Eric says, raising his hands in mock defeat, “Anyway, now that that’s settled, I’ll leave you to it.” He adds, standing up and exiting the office.

Alan makes a mental note to yell at Ronald after lunch.


	6. The Queen Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my god sorry its taken me so long to update ive been dealing with various health issues resulting in me being unable to write. hopefully updates will be less infrequent from now on *fingers crossed*

Lunch comes and goes rather fast, and Alan is dreading having to spend the rest of the day with Ronald. Alan can't believe Ronald had nearly told Eric about the Thorns, but honestly he should've expected this from _Grell’s_ mentee. He’s almost as loose lipped as she is, and Alan feels like that's only _partially_ Grell’s fault.

And that brings up a whole new hypothetical issue: what if Ronald ends up blabbing to Grell once she comes back? Lord only knows how fast the news would spread around Dispatch if she finds out. More importantly, it’d surely reach Eric within a day. Then Alan would have to confess whether he was ready to or not.

Alan has to remind himself to stop worrying about hypotheticals. It won't do any good to trigger an attack by stressing over silly things.

He glances at his watch. He’s running a bit late, Ronald is probably already out on the field. Best to get going, then. Alan stands up and grabs his scythe before heading to where their first collection is scheduled.

He arrives, and immediately notices Ronald isn’t there yet. There are still a couple minutes left before anything is supposed to happen so Alan assumes Ronald is just on his way over and will be there soon. He sighs and decides to wait, albeit impatiently.

The extra time comes and goes, and Ronald still doesn't show. Alan begrudgingly collects the soul that Ronald was meant to collect, growing more irritated the longer he’s left alone. Just as he marks the collection as completed and begins to leave for the next assignment, he hears Ronald’s voice.

“Alan! Wait up!” He calls from behind Alan, “Sorry I’m late!” 

Alan turns around as Ronald catches up with him, “I took the liberty of collecting the soul for you. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it, really do.” Ronald says, “Listen, Eric stopped me on my way out wanting to talk for a sec. I got held up, honestly. Didn't mean to be so late.”

“You were talking with Eric?” Alan asks, arms crossed and brow raised, “What, did you make sure he knows I’m dying this time?”

“Alan, listen, I didn't mean to say anything, I swear.” Ronald frantically explains, “It just slipped out, and I even covered for you.”

Alan’s bitter demeanor doesn't change, “Really? I wonder how William would react if the details of your sub-par performance today just ‘slipped out’ when I report to him later.” 

“Alan, _please_ ,” Ronald begs, “It was just a one-time thing!” 

“Being late or nearly telling Eric I’m terminally ill?” 

“Both!” Ronald insists, “I’m really, really sorry, really am. Can we please just move past this and complete our collections for the day?”

Alan sighs, resigning himself to cooperating, “Fine. This doesn't mean I forgive you yet, though.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” Ronald says, “You’ve earned your right to be mad at me.”

“Anyway,” Alan says, brushing Ronald’s comment off, “We only have about ten minutes to get to the next collection. Let’s go.”

Ronald nods, and follows as Alan leads the way to their next assignment.

[/////]

“Hello, darlings!”

Alan, who had finally finished his work with Ronald for the day and had been on his way to his office, stops at the sudden greeting. He turns around to face the way it had come from, and saw none other than Grell Sutcliff walking down the hall.

“You're back early.” He remarks once she’s close enough.

“Yes, well,” She begins, taking a moment to examine her nails, “I’m only allowed to fill out paperwork for the next few days. So, unfortunately for you, you're still stuck with my dear mentee until then.” She says, ruffling Alan’s hair slightly.

“You know about that?” He asks, trying to flatten his hair back down with his fingers.

“Ran into Ronnie on the way up.” She replies, waving a hand dismissively, “Anyway, all that paperwork won't fill itself out, not to mention I have a meeting with a rather handsome man to get to. Bye now!”

She walks away without giving Alan another chance to speak, and he’s left staring at her back for a moment before remembering he also has paperwork of his own to complete. He’s glad she didn't stick around, though. He couldn't possibly manage to get through a Grell-style interrogation for juicy gossip. Not now, not when he has something to hide.

If Grell finds out, there’s no doubt that she’ll start rumours that a reaper is _dying_ , of all things for a reaper to be. It'll spread around the office like wildfire,everyone in their department will surely know within half a day. And it's not like Eric is stupid, he’ll put two and two together and realize the reason Alan has been so off lately. Alan doesn't that to be the way Eric finds out.

Whatever, no more worrying about hypotheticals, Alan reminds himself as he begins making his way back to his office. The only thing he needs to worry about right now is whether or not his paperwork is complete, and at the moment there’s a stack on his desk left unfinished. He sits down and begins filling out the various forms, trying to focus on the positives of his situation. Like how he's not yet too sick to work, William still considers him a competent senior, and at least he won’t be stuck working with Ronald for much longer.

He just has to make it until Grell is back on collections with Ronald. Then he'll get his old workload back, tell Eric about his illness, and there will be no more secrets to stress over.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, be sure to check out my tumblr eriicaceae for more content!


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